


Dreamscapes

by MisMiz (Jaaaaack51)



Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Declarations Of Love, Dreams, Established Relationship, Feelings, Fever Dreams, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-07 22:49:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6828310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaaaaack51/pseuds/MisMiz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not enough that Vin is sick and apparently on his way to Tascosa against his will? Now he has to put up with these damn dreams, too?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreamscapes

Dreamscapes

 

"The Bible says an eye for an eye. I reckon a neck for a neck is almost the same." Vin opened his eyes at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. A grim faced blond was standing over him. Looked to be a few years younger than Vin. Tall. A little on the skinny side. He reminded Vin of someone, but it was hard to think through the haze of pain in his head.

"Who..?" Vin croaked. His throat felt tight and hot. The words scraped like sandpaper against it. He squinted his eyes, trying to focus on the looming figure.

"Who am I?" The young man laughed bitterly. "My name is Matthew Leary." He said the name like it meant something. Maybe it did. Or rather, maybe it would if Vin could manage to think straight. 

Gingerly, Vin tried to sit up. That was when he discovered that he was bound hand and foot. Whoever Matthew Leary was, he was no friend of Vin's. Dammit. How the hell had this happened? The last thing he remembered…

The last thing he remembered was him and Chris having words. No big surprise there. Seemed like all they did lately was fuck or fight. Too much that was unsaid and unsettled between them, he supposed. Then Melissa Yates and her husband had hit town and that had been the final straw.

Melissa was the daughter-in-law of Judge Travis's oldest friend. Her husband was a rich banker type. A pompous ass, if you asked Vin. The tracker hadn't liked him from day one. Man was twistier than a snake with a knot in its tail. He was up to something. Vin would stake his life on it.

He'd tried telling Chris his feelings about the man, but the gunslinger had shrugged them off. He'd reminded Vin that Melissa was a married woman and being a pompous jerk wasn't a hanging offense on the part of her husband.

Vin knew Chris was thinking about Charlotte when he said those words. But it wasn't like that this time. And Vin was determined to prove it. He'd spent all his spare time trying to find evidence against Yates and Chris hadn't been too happy about that.

And then Buck had gotten hurt while he was out on patrol. Vin should have been there, but he’d stopped by to see if Melissa could tell him where her husband had been the past few days and Buck had gone ahead without him and managed to get himself shot by a fool with a grudge and a gun. That had pushed Chris over the edge. He'd said if Vin was too busy chasing after married women to do his job, then maybe he should find another line of work. And Vin had been stung enough by those words to tell Chris he’d damn well do just that. He'd stormed out of Nathan's clinic, guilt and anger and frustration all churning in his gut. He'd gone for a ride to try and cool off some before going back to town. He knew he couldn't leave things the way they were. But he'd never made it back to town. Because…

Because he'd started feeling sick. He'd been doing his best to ignore the chills and fever and sore throat he'd had the last few days, but it was catching up with him. And then he'd stopped to rest and…

And someone had apparently hit him over the head, hogtied him, and then sat around waiting for him to wake up so they could tell him why they'd hit him over the head and hogtied him.

Ok. So now he had a fair idea of who that someone was. Matthew Leary. But who the hell was Matthew Leary?

"I know you?" It hurt to talk. Hurt to think, too.

"You knew my brother. Jason Leary. You took him in to hang and now I'm gonna return the favor.”

"Jason Leary?" Vin struggled to remember. A faint picture of a lean, sharp faced man with eyes the same light blue color as his captor's. The man had a…

"He had a scar, didn't he?" Vin asked abruptly. "Above his left eyebrow?”

"He fell out of the hayloft when we were kids." The young man jerked him roughly to his feet and half dragged him over to where a husky dark haired man waited with the horses.

"You ready?" The dark haired one helped secure Vin to the saddle and then he and Matthew mounted up and they started riding, leading the tracker's horse between them.

Vin tried to take stock of his surroundings as they rode, but the chills wracking his body made it difficult to concentrate on anything except staying in the saddle. His head ached fiercely now. Felt like someone was driving railroad spikes into his brain. And the pain in his throat seemed to have spread down into his chest. With each mile they rode, he slid further and further toward the precipice of exhaustion and finally to near delirium.

Snatches of his captors' conversation occasionally pierced his mental fog. He struggled to hold onto them, but they merged with his fevered thoughts until he was no longer certain what was real and what was not.

"You gonna collect the bounty on him when we get to Tascosa?" Was that the dark haired one talking? Vin couldn't seem to open his eyes to look.

"No. You can have it. The only thing I want is justice. My brother was innocent and this bastard took him in and let him hang.”

"Wasn't really his fault they hanged Jason, you know.”

"It was somebody's fault. I'm giving Tanner the same chance he gave my brother.”

Had Jason Leary really been innocent? He didn't remember ever bringing in anyone who he'd thought might be innocent, but he could've been wrong. Wouldn't be the first time he'd been wrong about things. He'd been wrong about Chris. He'd waited around thinking that they might finally talk about this thing between them. That maybe Chris would acknowledge it was about more than just the needs of the body. 

But that hadn’t happened. Didn’t seem fair. He loved Chris. Why the hell didn’t Chris love him back? Or if he did, then why didn’t he just say so? Or why wouldn’t he at least let Vin say so instead of getting that damn look in his eyes every time it seemed like Vin might break their silence? The look that warned Vin not to say anything even close to the word love.

Well, there was Chris now. Maybe he'd just ask him why. 

“Hey cowboy.” Vin struggled to sit up briefly and then slid gracelessly back down to the ground. 

"Vin." Chris sounded just like he always did, but there was something different about him. Something just a bit…off. Vin frowned. Was it his clothes? His hair? 

“Your gun.” Vin blurted. Vin had never seen any gun like the one holstered at Chris’s hip. As a matter of fact, Chris’s holster was different, too. And his clothes. After another look, his hair was about the same though. 

Chris folded his arms and glared down at Vin. “You really want to talk about my gun? Now? Seems to me we might have a few more pressing matters here.”

“I reckon you’re right.” Vin snuck another look at the unfamiliar gun before forcing his muddled thoughts into some semblance of order.

“Why the hell don’t you love me back? I love you. You have to know it even if you never let me say it.” Vin was sure his feelings for Chris were plain as the nose on his face. 

“Seems to me you’ve spent a lot of time chasing around after other people for someone who says they love me.” Chris shrugged. “For what it’s worth though, I do love you back. Was thinking about asking you to marry me even. Now that you've killed Buck though, it just don't seem fitting." The gunslinger turned and began walking away.

“Married?” Vin frowned. He didn’t think they could do that no matter how nice it might sound. Then the rest of Chris’s words penetrated the fog that surrounded his thoughts and he flailed wildly, trying to get Chris to stop.

“Killed Buck? What are you... Wait. Chris...Don't leave me. Chris!" Vin tried to get to his feet and catch up to the gunslinger, but something seemed to be holding him back.

"No! Come back! Chris!" The tracker struggled again to break free. Why couldn't he move?

"Hold still, goddammit. Unless you want another lump to match the one you already got on that thick skull of yours." The irritated voice of Jason Leary's dark haired companion jerked Vin back to awareness. He stopped struggling and sagged against his captor in relief. It had just been a dream. Buck wasn't dead. He wasn’t.

Camp was quickly and efficiently set up by the two men while Vin lay huddled on the ground, shivering under the blanket he'd been given. He was so cold. Chris had always kept him warm. But Chris wasn’t here. Or maybe Vin wasn’t there. He wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t anymore. Except for the pain. That was always real. 

Chris was always real, too. He just wasn’t sure which Chris was the real one. The one that loved Vin or maybe he didn’t. Vin was a little hazy on that.

“Chris is definitely real. A real pain in the ass.” Buck Wilmington grinned down at him and Vin would’ve rolled his eyes at that if he wasn’t too busy shaking and shivering to do anything else.

“Aint telling me anything I don’t already know.” he informed Buck crossly.

”Son, I could tell you stories about Chris Larabee that would take the curl right outta that hair of yours. You don’t know everything there is to know just yet.” It seemed like there was something different about Buck, too. Something just a bit off about his clothes or whatnot but he was too busy wondering what he didn’t know about Chris to give it further thought.

“Stories?"

"Yep. Like that time we were on that cattle drive and... well just ask him to tell you about Abilene one day. Or maybe you could ask him to show you instead.” Buck nudged him playfully in the shoulder. Ouch. He tried to tell the other man that it hurt, but Buck just did it again. And again. Until finally, Vin started to get mad.

"Dammit, Buck..." he croaked.

"Here. Drink this. Don't want you dying on me before they have a chance to hang you." Vin opened his eyes to see Matthew Leary crouched down beside him, gripping his shoulder tightly and holding a canteen of water to his lips.

Vin raised his head and gulped at the water greedily, feeling it slide painfully down his throat, past his parched lips.

When Matthew had judged he'd had enough, he removed the canteen and got to his feet. Vin let his head fall back. That small effort had exhausted him and he closed his eyes, sliding once more into a fitful sleep.

"A man that hath friends must shew himself friendly and there is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother." Josiah tapped the handle of his hammer thoughtfully against one broad palm as he stared down at Vin.

"Well if you plan on sticking closer to me, could you at least untie me?" Vin asked plaintively as Josiah continued to stare thoughtfully at him.

"Friends may be pearls, but love conquers all. I learned that from a wise old fakir.”

"A faker? Ain't that the same thing as a liar?” He supposed a liar and a faker could be wise. Just couldn’t trust them to be honest. Although maybe they were like Ezra. Mostly honest and occasionally wise. Or was that the other way aound?

"No. No. A fakir." Josiah shook his head and sighed. "Lord give me strength.”

"I think you got it backwards, Josiah. I'm the one that's tied up here, needing strength.”

"Tied up. Blind. It's all the same. You've got to look past the forest to see the trees." Josiah bent down and retrieved a nail. He began hammering shingles on a church roof. It didn’t look anything like the church back in town though. Vin wondered how long he had been in Matthew Leary’s clutches. Long enough for Chris to get a new gun, Buck to get some new duds, and Josiah to get a new church apparently. Wasn’t anyone looking for him?

Vin wished Josiah would stop with the hammering already. It was making his head hurt worse. How many times was he gonna hit that damn nail?

"Stop. Head hurts." Vin closed his eyes and moaned in pain. He whimpered in relief as the pounding noise gradually faded.

"Yeah. Sometimes trying to figure out what Josiah is saying can make my head hurt, too." JD's cheerful young voice made Vin open his eyes. Or maybe he didn't. It was hard to tell.

“JD?"

“What?"

"Why are you here?”

"I don't know. But thanks for thinking of me. I'm always getting left out of things. Just because I'm young. But I ain't stupid, you know. Could hack my way into the FBI computers if I wanted.”

“Com… what? Stupid?” Vin was having a hard time following the conversation. JD kept pacing back and forth as he spoke, making Vin feel dizzy. He closed his eyes for a minute. When he opened them again, he could no longer see the young sheriff.

“JD?"

"He's coming down with something. I made him go take two aspirin and lie down. The last thing we need is for all of us to get sick. We're short handed at the office as it is, with Buck being out of commission." 

Nathan stepped into view and Vin frowned. Buck was out of commission? He'd looked ok last time Vin had seen him. When he'd told Vin to ask Chris about Abilene. But that hadn't been real, had it? Or was Buck getting shot the thing that wasn't real? And was Nathan wearing new clothes too, dammit? And what was that thing he was holding?

"Buck?" That was all Vin could force out of his parched throat.

"Don't worry about him." Nathan snorted. "The pretty nurses at the hospital are taking good care of him. He's busy lounging around catching up on Downton Abbey or something with them right now.”

“Abbey Who?" Vin had the feeling there was a lot he didn't understand.

"You take it easy, Vin. I've got to call Ezra and tell him to get his sorry butt down here. He's late.”

"No need, Mr. Jackson. I am present and accounted for." The gambler's languid tones reached them just as he came into view.

"I'll be on my way, then." Nathan nodded and disappeared.

"How do you get yourself into these predictaments?" Ezra pursed his lips and glanced down at Vin.

Vin shrugged. Or tried to, anyway.

"I've seen the way you look at him.”

"Who?" Vin knew, but he wasn't going to be the first to say it.

"Mr. Larabee, of course." The words, 'don't be an idiot' were implicit in the southerner's tone.

"I don’t..."

"You do. The real question is whether he returns the sentiment.”

“Asked me to marry him. Or…said he was thinking about it anyway.” Vin muttered. “But Buck’s dead. Or he’s making time with someone named Abbey. I aint too sure about anything right now.”

“Marriage?” Ezra raised an eyebrow. “I am uncertain whether to offer my congratulations or my condolences.”

“We can’t get married. Buck’s dead. Aint you been listening?” Vin glared at Ezra, then narrowed his eyes as he fully registered the other man’s appearance. “You got new clothes, too.” he accused. 

“I am listening to every word, I assure you. To my everlasting dismay.” Ezra held up a hand to forestall any comments. “I was not aware that you took such an interest in my, admittedly dashing, attire.”

“Don’t.” Vin mumbled. “It’s just everyone’s been wearing new stuff. Got new guns. New churches. And no one’s looking for me.” Vin didn’t mean to sound so…plaintive. But he was so tired and everything hurt.

“You are just a bundle of misery at the moment, aren’t you?” Ezra murmured.

“Not really a whole lot to be happy about right now, Ezra.” 

"Maybe. Maybe not." Ezra wasn't helping matters, Vin thought sourly.

"I'm not here to help." Was the gambler reading his mind?

"No. I'm not reading your mind. Mr. Sanchez is not the only one who is a student of human nature. A good gambler always stacks the odds in his favor. Because a good gambler abhors gambling.”

“Why are you here? If it aint to help then just go away.” Vin forced the words out of his parched throat.

Ezra didn't answer. Instead, he reached into his pocket and took out a flower of some kind. With a bow he handed the flower to Mary Travis, who had suddenly appeared at his side looking fresher than the daisy she was now holding. 

Ezra looked thoughtfully between Vin and Mary. ”You know. Mr. Larabee really is a rather handsome sort of fellow. In that lean, brooding sort of way. What do you say to a little bit of friendly competition between you and Mary? Winner gets 10% of the pot. And Mr. Larabee, of course.”

"Why are you doing this, Ezra?”

"I am merely manifesting your insecurities, my dear boy.”

“You can't gamble with people’s affections. It ain't right.”

"What you did to my brother wasn't right, either." That wasn't Ezra's voice. Vin's eyes flew open and he saw Matthew Leary crouched down beside him once again. It was still dark outside.

"Why don't you just shoot me?" Vin asked tiredly.

"Because I ain't a murderer.”

"But maybe your brother was. You ever think of that?" Unexpected sympathy rose in him at the sight of Matthew's stricken young face.

"Yeah. I thought of it. Don't believe it.”

"Don't want to believe it, you mean.”

"It amounts to the same thing in the end." Matthew gave Vin another drink from his canteen and then went back to his bedroll. Vin could see the vague outline of Matthew's companion nearby. He hadn't moved during their brief conversation.

"Dammit, Chris. You just don't want to believe it either. Because you gotta know." Vin mumbled the words as sleep once more claimed him.

"If I was you, I'd be more concerned about hanging than I would be about fucking." Chris's voice observed in his ear.

"It ain't just the fucking I'm concerned about.”

"What then? Love?" Chris's voice was scornful.

"You wouldn't know about that anymore, would you? Because the only kind of love you believe in nowadays is the kind you can buy from any two bit whore. Or maybe the kind you get from crazy, murdering ones like Ella.” Vin's anger was sudden and intense. He was sick and damn tired of denying what he wanted. If Chris didn't like it that was just too damn bad.

"You better watch it, Tanner. Say anything more and we might both regret it. You more so than me.”

"Why? What're you gonna do? Shoot me?" Vin sneered.

“Maybe."

"Go ahead." Despite himself, Vin flinched and closed his eyes as he heard the sound of a gunshot. He waited for the burning pain to follow, but all he felt was the same old aches and pains and fever. Well, he reckoned he'd feel the gunshot pain eventually. He didn't mind if it took its time arriving.

"Vin? Vin? You ok?" Chris's voice sounded concerned, which confused Vin. Was the gunslinger sorry he'd shot him?

"So who's sorry now?" Vin rasped. He hoped Chris was wracked with guilt. The bastard.

"Nathan, he's burning up. And I think he might be delirious. Come take a look." Vin opened his eyes. What was Nathan doing here again?

"Nate?" Vin peered up at the healer. This time Nathan looked like he was supposed to look. The funny clothes were nowhere in evidence. Vin struggled to sit up.

"Take it easy, Vin. Let me take a look at you." Deftly, the healer sliced the ropes binding him and laid a cool hand against his forehead.

"Where's Buck? Are the pretty nurses still taking good care of him? And what about that Abbey gal?" Vin frowned as Nathan glanced over at Chris before replying.

"Buck's back in town. JD is staying with him." Nathan spoke soothingly and Vin's frown deepened. He had the feeling he'd said something wrong, but he couldn't seem to think well enough to figure out what. There was something else he needed to ask, though.

"Chris. Before you shoot me again, I want to know what happened in Abilene that Buck said would curl my hair. Or maybe it was take the curl out of my hair." Vin knew he was babbling, but he couldn't seem to stop. He'd expected Chris to be pissed off at the question, but all the gunslinger did was shake his head.

"I can see I'm going to have to have another talk with Buck.”

"Tell me." Vin tried to sound forceful, but the words came out as a weak whisper. He could feel the darkness creeping over him No, dammit.

"It was a long time ago. It ain't important now.”

“If Buck aint dead, does this mean we're getting marr…” but before he could finish that thought, the blackness engulfed him and he could no longer fight it.

\+ + + + + + +

The next time Vin opened his eyes, he found himself lying on the bed in Nathan's clinic. He'd been there enough times to recognize it instantly. How had he gotten here, though?

Turning his head, the tracker saw Chris asleep in the chair next to him. The gunslinger hadn't shaved in a few days. And there were dark shadows under his eyes. Vin watched him sleep for a few moments, enjoying the sight. Then Chris opened his eyes and Vin looked away quickly.

"Feeling better?" Chris asked, reaching out to lay a hand briefly against Vin's forehead, just like he remembered Nathan doing.

“Yeah."

"You feel up to telling me what happened?”

"Leary surprised me when I was out riding. Trying to cool down after..." Vin trailed off awkwardly, reluctant to bring up the subject of their disagreement.

"After our argument." Chris finally said when the silence threatened to drag on.

"Yeah. He was set on taking me to Tascosa to hang. Seems I took in his brother back when I was bounty hunting. He was out for…"

“Revenge?"

"No. What he thought was justice. Claims his brother was innocent.”

"Was he?”

"I don't know.”

"You remember anything else?”

Vin shook his head. The things he remembered didn't make any sense. And he didn't have a hankering to look like a fool in front of Chris. Had Buck really told him to ask Chris about Abilene? And what about Ezra giving flowers to Mary so she could win the bet? And had Josiah really talked to him about pearls?

"How did you and the others manage to ride to the rescue? Didn't think anyone would come looking for me. Figured you'd think I'd made good on my talk of leaving. Since things haven't been real comfortable between us lately and all." Again Vin trailed off.

Chris sighed. "I know that, Vin. It's my fault. I should've trusted your instincts. We caught Yates up to his eyeballs in dirty dealings.”

"Melissa?" Vin asked. Chris's lips tightened briefly, but his voice was level enough when he answered.

"She's fine. On her way home. Said to tell you au revoir.”

"Au revoir?”

"It's a fancy way of saying goodbye.”

Vin's smile caused Chris to frown slightly.

"I'm glad she's ok.”

"Yeah." Chris lapsed into silence and Vin cast around for another topic of conversation. He normally wasn't one to mind quiet, but this felt unpleasantly like the calm before the storm.

"So is that why you boys came looking for me? Because you figured Yates had me?”

"No. We didn't catch him until day before yesterday. After we'd already brought you back.”

"Day before yesterday?" Vin was confused. How long had he been here, anyway?

“You've been here four days now. Nathan wasn't sure you were gonna make it for the first couple of days." There was a flash of something perilously close to pain in Chris's face.

"Then why did you come looking for me?”

"Because..." Chris hesitated, leaning forward in his chair slightly and clenching his fists.

"He awake yet?" JD's voice interrupted whatever the gunslinger had been about to say. Chris relaxed and sat back in his chair.

“Yeah. Guess he finally decided he'd slept enough.” Chris shrugged, grinning carelessly. That hadn't been what he was gonna say. Vin knew it. But the moment was gone and there was no getting it back. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe one day he might even believe that. And Ezra coud sell him a bridge somewhere with no water, too.

"I'm awake, JD." Vin smiled at the young man without much enthusiasm. Most of his attention was focused on Chris who was getting to his feet, obviously ready to take his leave. He hesitated briefly at the door, turning his head to look back at Vin.

“I’ll stop by later.” Chris’s eyes were shadowed and Vin had no idea if those words were supposed to be a threat, a promise, or something in between.

\+ + + + + + +

Vin was dreaming again. He could feel the rough rope against his throat and knew that he was moments from a shameful death. But the biggest hurt came from within. From knowing that Chris hadn’t bothered to look for him. That he had just let Vin go as easy as you please. As the rope tightened, he choked out Chris’s name, not sure whether it was as a curse or a benediction. 

With a gasp, Vin opened his eyes and sat up, clutching at his throat. He turned his head and there was Chris, slouched against the straight back chair next to the bed and watching Vin with an unreadable expression on his face. Vin glanced past Chris to the faint moonlight coming in through the window. It was well after midnight if he was any judge. 

“How long have you been here?” 

Instead of answering, Chris sighed and straightened up, leaning forward to trail his fingers along Vin’s cheek. 

“Were you dreaming about me, Vin?” Chris smoothed the hair off Vin’s forehead and then sat back, clearly waiting for an answer.

“Not exactly.” Vin could still feel the echo of Chris’s touch. The uncharacteristic gesture had him feeling off balance and he was starting to wonder if he had actually woken up or whether this was still a dream. 

“Funny. Thought I heard you say my name. Didn’t sound real happy about it though. Should my feelings be hurt?”

“Your feelings? I wouldn’t know about those. You aint never told me you had any.” Vin snapped, confusion and frustration sharpening the edge of his temper. He turned and punched the pillow, burrowing down into the bed and closing his eyes. He wished Chris would go away. He wished Chris would touch him again. He wished he knew if this was all just some damned dream he was having.

“Vin.” Chris placed a hand on his shoulder, fingers tightening when Vin just shook his head stubbornly. 

"Goddammit, Vin. Open your eyes and look at me." Chris sounded exasperated.

“You didn’t look for me.” Vin mumbled. He couldn’t shake the hurt of that still lingering from the dream.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Chris sounded more confused than angry now.

Vin rolled over and opened his eyes to look at Chris. “My dream. You weren’t there. Didn’t look for me. Leary took me to Tascosa and when they was putting the rope around my neck I looked for you one last time. But you weren’t there.” Vin trailed off and looked away. He’d revealed far more of himself than he had intended.

”Jesus, Vin.” Chris got to his feet and went to look out the window, leaning his forehead against the glass and sucking in a deep breath before slowly turning around to face Vin.

“I’ll always look for you, Vin.” Chris said, so quietly Vin had to strain to hear the words.

“Don’t have to say that just becase you’re feeling guilty about Leary. Was my own damn fault.” Vin wanted to wrap himself in Chris’s words like a warm blanket on a cold night but some perverse part of him refused to allow that kind of comfort for either of them.

“Yeah. It was your own damn fault. Going off like that. Not telling anyone you were sick. What the hell, Vin?” Now Chris was angry again

“You told me to leave!” Vin snapped.

“That aint exactly what I said.” Chris glared at him. “And even if it was, since when have you listened to every damn fool thing I say?” For all that he was glaring daggers at Vin, there was something oddly vulnerable about both the gunslinger’s words and his expression.

“What exactly are you trying to say right now?” Vin sat up, head swimming with both sudden hope and the dizziness that still came with any sudden movements. 

“I’m saying I don’t want you to leave.”

“I was coming back.” Vin wanted to make that clear. No matter what happened between them here, he needed Chris to know that.

Chris shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. ”This time maybe. What about next time? What if I can’t…”

“Can’t what?” Vin watched as Chris slowly walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. He reached out to cup Vin’s jaw, thumb brushing along his cheekbone.

“People think it’s hard to love someone. But that’s the easy part. The hard part is letting them love you back.” Chris started to pull his hand away as Vin stared blankly at him.

Vin grabbed Chris’s hand and clutched it tightly in his own, silently refusing to let go. He waited until Chris relaxed his hand, letting it rest in Vin’s without a struggle, before speaking. 

“You can choose to not let me if that’s what you want, but the way I see it is I can choose to do it anyway.” Vin took a deep breath. “I love you and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it, cowboy”

“No? Doesn’t seem like I have much choice in the matter, then.” Chris stared down at their joined hands and frowned. Vin’s heart sank clear down to his toes. It had felt good finally saying those words to Chris. He couldn’t regret it but that didn’t make accepting Chris’s rejection of it any easier. He started pulling his hand free and this time it was Chris who tightened his grip and refused to let go.

“I choose to accept your choice. I have that much say in the matter, don’t I?” Chris looked up as he spoke, a rueful smile gradually turning into a grin as he watched the myriad of expressions cross Vin’s face. Surprise morphing into wonder and finally into a happiness that seemed to settle deep into his very bones from the way Vin’s whole body relaxed, until he was leaning forward, head pressed against Chris’s shoulder.

“You better not be just some fever dream.” Vin mumbled against Chris’s shoulder. “Had enough of those.”

“This real enough for you?” Chris reached under the thin blanket and pinched Vin’s thigh, eliciting a startled yelp. 

“No. But this might be.” Vin pressed his lips against Chris’s. They were warm and tasted faintly of cinnamon and apples.

“Apple pie.” Vin drew back and scowled at Chris. “You know what Nathan gave me to eat for dinner? It wasn’t apple pie, that’s for damn sure.”

“I’ll bring you a piece tomorrow.” Chris smiled.

“That better be a promise.” Vin smiled back, but there was a hint of doubt still lingering in his eyes.

“It’s a promise, Vin.” Chris’s words and tone left no room for doubt. “Now go back to sleep. Nathan said you still need to rest for a few more days.”

Vin curled up on his side and closed his eyes and if he had any more dreams that nght he didn’t remember them.

When he woke up late the next morning, Chris was gone but there was a piece of fresh apple pie on the night stand.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> I thought it might be fun to have the ATF versions of the boys take over poor Vin's dreams. They're like his days of future past or whatever. 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading!


End file.
